Disclaimer: I do not own the stories or various intellectual properties of Star Wars. Those rights are the property of George Lucas, and in the case of various other texts used for reference, notably the Extended Universe books, their respective authors. This is a non-profit fanfiction.
Boots clacked along polished durasteel floor, rhythmically resounding towards the bridge. Polished to a mirror sheen, they reflected the long expanses crisscrossing the Imperial ship, the hallways filled with proud workingmen and women of the Imperial Navy.
As they arrived on the bridge, carrying their owner past the forward console stations, they reflected the lights from the workstations below.
The men and women working in the pits on either side of the walkway continued working without pause, there wasn't any secret aboard the Executor about crewmen killed for displeasing Lord Vader.
His black heavy cape swished through the air, an aura of malice following him onto the bridge.
Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, Supreme Commander of the Imperial Forces, had arrived on the bridge of his flagship.
His ship, resembling a dark grey arrowhead 19-kilometers long, traveled through hyperspace, quickly rushing towards its destination.
Vader's respirator resounded throughout the bridge, rhythmically pumping fresh oxygen into his bloodstream directly. It was no oddity to these men and women, these officers, commissioned and noncommissioned alike, making up the best and brightest of the Imperial Navy.
Though their raw talent and hard-trained skills would not protect them should they err in their duty to the Navy, or more worryingly, Darth Vader.
"Lord Vader," said a man, impeccably dressed in a grey naval uniform, "Death Squadron will be exiting out of hyperspace momentarily."
"Good," said the Sith. His armored head, glistening in the light of the stars blurring as the ship passed by, tilted down to look at his Admiral.
"Have you discerned the destination of the Tantive IV yet," he asked, a hint of irritation punctuating his words. Chasing a lone ship across the Outer Rim had not been a part of his plans for his Squadron's first deployment.
The Rear Admiral, Kendal Ozzel, nodded, pulling up the navigation charts on his datapad, "Well, my Lord, it's at Tatooine."
The creaking of leather could be heard from the Dark Lord's gloves, and beads of sweat traveled down Ozzel's weathered face. Few men, least of all Kendal Ozzel, were prepared to face Darth Vader's rage so directly.
"I see. Arrange for Epsilon Company to board the ambassador's ship once it is in the hold," said Vader coolly. "I will see to it personally that the plans are found."
"Of course my lord," said Ozzel, as his hands moved to adjust his collar.
He quickly stepped off into the communications station to send Lord Vader's orders to General Veers. While it was not uncommon for Vader to take a hand in a mission like this one personally, to see him doing so still unnerved the Admiral.
Of course, Veers could plainly see that the Rebellion having the ability to search the Death Star for a weakness could cause unimaginable damage to the expensive super-weapon.
He shuddered at the damage that could occur should they manage to build one themselves. At the same time, he couldn't imagine the cash poor Rebellion being able to afford to build a Death Star.
"Thank the stars for small mercies," he muttered.
As the Rear Admiral prepared the orders to send to his army equivalent, the ship dropped out of hyperspace. To those near a viewport they could see the blurred stars returning to pinpricks, revealing the ship's location was around a yellow-tinged planet in a binary solar system.
The Tantive IV, a somewhat dilapidated Corellian Blockade Runner,was moving past the planet trying to skirt close to the gravity well and slingshot off into hyperspace. The tactic required pinpoint accuracy in order to dive into the outer reaches of the atmosphere, cut across the plane of the planet, and rob it of a tiny portion of it's own energy in order to use said energy as a boost to speed off in another direction.
It also had the effect of making it exceedingly difficult to track any starship which utilized this method.
"Admiral," Vader said, "you have your orders. See to it that you do not fail me."
Ozzel nodded, and straightening his uniform he signaled for an alert. Throughout the ship a muted klaxon began to resound, red light's flashing around the ship, signaling the crew to general quarters in order to prepare for ship-to-ship combat.
Vader looked towards the Admiral, waiting for the man to issues his commands to the ship.
The black-cloaked Lord looked like nothing more than a hunter seeking game. Ozzel knew the operation hinged on his personal efficiency, and he had no desire to fail in this mission.
It would be more than his career he lost if he did.
Quickly, the Admiral begun to speak to the bridge officer, "Petty Officer Antares, send these orders to the rest of the squadron. At 1500 hours, Coruscant time, we have begun the retrieval operation. This is per Lord Vader's direct order. Executor out."
Second Class Petty Officer Antares Mott quickly readied the orders to send out to the rest of the fleet. In a matter of moments, encrypted communications relays linking the ships had spread the orders to all on-duty personnel aboard the six capital ships.
In what seemed to be the blink of an eye, the Executor closed the gap between the two ships, the grey arrowhead's shields flaring as it was hit by particulate mass in the upper atmosphere of Tatooine.
The enormous capital ship took a bold maneuver, taking a similar path as the Corellian ship in diving into the planet's gravity well.
Only, the skilled helmsman of the Executor dove far deeper and further than the enemy ship had been willing to risk, pushing the ship's enormous drive systems and superstructure hard as it powered past the desert planet.
Shortly thereafter, the enemy ship came into range and Imperial turbolaser fire and ion cannons begun to hail down upon the shields of the Blockade Runner in a vicious deluge of green and blue bolts.
With each blast it took on its shields, the Corellian ship's course grew more and more erratic, madly weaving in an attempt to shake off the gunners of the Executor. The Tantive IV's design was originally made to burst past a fleet of ships and quickly make its escape.
It was not made to run from dedicated pursuit, and it lacked the speed to accommodate after the daring stunt the Executor had done.
With one last salvo from it's port forward turbolaser batteries, the Executor took out the Tantive IV's main engines. With this, the tractor beams started their irresistible pull of the damaged Blockade Runner into one of the hangar bays of the much larger Star Dreadnought.
The stormtroopers of Epsilon Company, 501st division, Vader's personal men, shifted impatiently as the scorched ship was brought into the docking bay. As soon as it had cleared the containment field, security systems locked the enemy ship into place.
With quick efficiency a group belonging to the Army corps of engineers stepped forward, and begun to cut through the battered aft airlock of the scorched ship with a pair of plasma cutters.
The moment the engineers broke through, airlock door clanging noisily onto the blockade-runner's deck plates, blaster bolts began to fly through, in flurry crimson bolts.
Some glanced off of the stormtroopers, but their gleaming all-white armor did more than just promote an aura of fear. With the weaker gas cartridges the Rebels used in their Blastech rifles, the bolts were just not strong enough to down a trooper in a single shot.
Eager for battle, the stormtroopers rushed in, firing brilliant green bolts from their own rifles.
The stormtroopers utilized another Blastech design, the E-11, using higher output capacitors and a more powerful gas charging system.
As the stormtroopers went through their standard room-clearing procedure, the men aboard the Corellian ship were cut down with practiced ease.
Shortly after the stormtroopers started their procedure, Lord Vader marched onto the ship himself.
He noted with distaste both the numerous dead Rebel troops and the infrequently felled stormtroopers, black carbon-scoring showing where the blast marks hit.
With irritation towards the Rebels for impeding his mission, Vader fell into a cold malice and quickened his pace towards where he felt his troops.
A Rebel soldier, one who had hid from the initial barrage, quickly appeared. His blaster came into Vader's view as he took aim at the dark lord.
He pulled the trigger. A flash of crimson appeared before his eyes.
Only sparks and ionized gas flew out of the blaster. Or what was left of it at any rate; the end of the barrel was six feet away, red-hot slag visibly cooling on one end.
Faster than he could see, an armored gauntlet lifted him up by his throat with casual ease.
Looking down the black-covered length of the arm, the fear the man felt became palpable. The Rebel knew he was already dead.
"Where are the transmissions you received?" Vader asked, cold rage penetrating the man as if there were icy needles slowly sliding inside every one of his pores.
Vader squeezed his throat, bringing the man to the brink of unconsciousness then allowing him to claw back.
Choking out while he struggle for breath, the man responded, "We-received n-no transmissions…we are a counselor ship on a d-diplomatic—"
He was cut off, as Vader felt the man's lies, a greasy feeling emanating off of the man in the Force.
The Sith applied further pressure to his trachea, "We have records of transmissions sent to this vessel. You will answer with the truth."
"W-we received n-no—"
A sickening crack filled the room as the man's neck was snapped, his head lolling to the side before Vader dropped him in a pile at his feet. The stormtroopers showed their military discipline, offering no reaction to the Rebel's death.
The commander of the company, Colonel Diego Elsin, stepped forward to present his report to his master.
"My lord, we have secured the ambassador, Princess Leia, and she is being moved to the prison cells in the forward section of the Executor. The plans have not been found in our cursory scan of the ship's computers. The rest of the ship has been cleared; all hands other than the ambassador resisted."
Elsin stepped back, unidentifiable in the line of soldiers in white armor.
"Colonel Elsin," he said, before gesturing at a soldier, "send in Sergeant Thek with a slicer team. Have them analyze the ship's computer cores."
He turned to another soldier, sensing concern in the Force, "Private Mastigar, you seem distressed."
The trooper stepped forward, nodding sheepishly. "My lord, there hasn't been enough time to confirm no men have remained hidden on the Rebel ship."
Vader reached out with his senses, though he didn't feel any enemy soldiers on board.
"Your fears are unfounded Private." He tilted his head, and gestured for a datapad, which was given to him in short order, "Still, your diligence is noteworthy, Corporal Mastigar."
The now-Corporal saluted, discipline schooling his actions, "Thank you, my Lord."
Vader offered no physical reaction, "You are dismissed." His armored gaze turned back to the commander of the company, "Send your report to General Veers once the ship has been fully searched, Colonel Elsin."
The trooper's saluted, Elsin already opening a channel to call in the slicer team; inefficiency was not a word known to the 501st.
With no other words spoken, the Blockade Runner was silent other than the steady sound of Vader's respirator. He walked away, his eyes hidden behind a motionless mask noted every system, every display, and every recruit he passed.
Vader passed through the open airlock to the hanger, and moved to begin the trek to return to the bridge of the Executor. Even as he left the hanger, he was already stalking the ship like a beast whose prey was stolen right before its eyes.
Lord Vader marched onto the bridge, cape billowing behind him as the naval men saluted before continuing their duty with the hallmark efficiency that had earned them a berthing on the Executor.
A noncommissioned officer spoke up, "Lord Vader, the slicer team has torn through the ship while you were en route to the bridge. The plans were nowhere to be found. According to the ship's logs, several escape pods were jettisoned before the ship was captured."
Vader fluidly turned, no emotion perceivable through his armor or voice, to the current lead gunnery officer, "Were the pods shot down?"
Gunnery Officer Taima Masha gulped, "N-no my lord, no l-life signs w-were detec-cted on th-the pods. I-in accords w-with I-imperial doctrine, I d-did not issue the o-order to f-f-fire."
Quickly, her hands went to her throat, though she quickly regained her composure when she felt no resistance to her continued breathing.
"Lieutenant Masha," begun Vader, an aura of malicious intent swirling around him, "You will begin bombardment of the planet below until there remains no possibility of the plans being on that world. Then we will discuss your punishment."
The officer gulped, and quickly issued the orders out the five-thousand turbolaser crews aboard the Executor. In addition, the orders were spread to the main comms stations, which proceeded to spread the orders to the other gunnery officers in the fleet.
The small desert planet known as Tatooine had been gently turning in the black of the Outer Rim. Out of the black, it was besieged by bright green laser fire, lancing out to the urban centers, setting buildings and ports alight before reducing them to little more than particulate matter.
From two of the Star Destroyers in orbit, further turbolaser batteries begun to spread their devastating cannon fire to the rest of the planets surface and slowly begun to sweep over the desert, starting to process of turning the planet to little more than blackened glass.
An old man in a small adobe hut ran out as he begun to feel large numbers of deaths in the Force.
Quickly, his eyes narrowed, and his hands covered his eyes looking to see if he could discover the source of the disturbances in the skies.
Seeing turbolaser fire pulsing down from above the atmospheric layers, his eyes fell and the wizened man collapsed to his knees.
"My friends...Padmé...Anakin...oh Anakin. I've failed you."
He reached out with the Force, and sensed his former apprentice in orbit above the planet. He begun to weep, "I've not only failed you, I've failed the galaxy...Luke...I've failed you..."
His plans and strategies had been all for naught, and he wept both in regret and sorrow, tears staining the desert sand beneath him.
Knowing the futility his situation, Obi-Wan Kenobi calmed his mind and begun to meditate.
Reaching deep into the Living Force, deep into the universe, his body relaxed, and the one-time Jedi, the one-time General, knew peace at last.
It just so happened to come in a bolt of green turbolaser fire.
Luke Skywalker was gawking at the Star Destroyers through his macro-binoculars, blue eyes opened wide. He watched the white arrowheads in the sky laying waste to the vast desert with green arrows.
He watched the one black Star Dreadnought, dwarfing the others, letting out bolts in numbers that equaled the rest of the ships in quantity.
As the laser fire methodically begun to near Beggar's Canyon, he realized that his aunt and uncle would have no way of escape in their rundown old landspeeder.
He dashed up the entry ramp to his Incom T-16 airspeeder, covered in dust and held together by patchwork repairs.
He hoped against all odds to be able to avoid the attacks that were coming down on what seemed to be the entire planet.
Powering up the airspeeder, his calloused hands flying across the controls, it quickly rose into the air, and sped off.
Behind him lay a trail of dust from his wake, as he flew towards his home in a mad dash. To save his family would require him to fly at speeds pushing the rating of a new T-16, much less his older model.
"Curse this antique," he growled, blasting forward only to find another field of turbolaser fire slowly crossing over another section of the desert planet.
"But there's nothing out here dammit!" he cried out, as he took evasive maneuvers through the field of repeating fire. He grimaced as nearby bolts shook his small craft, dodging surefire death by meters at a time.
Unconsciously pulling out all the stops, he pushed his reflexes to their utmost, and beyond.
His evasion grew greater and greater, dodging the blasts with inhuman reflexes, eager to survive in any way.
Had his reflexes been slightly keener, or if he had been piloting a slightly more maneuverable craft than a battered old airspeeder he might have been able to survive the bombardment.
However, this was not to be the case; his hand caught on the controls, intending to increase power to his engines, to speed past the next sequence of fire.
The Incom T-16 had given all it had to give, and the power curve had hit its utmost limit.
He saw the bolt coming down, and he felt where it was going to hit, but Luke just had no way to move his craft out of its path.
His one consolation was that he felt no pain when his airspeeder vanished into the beam he couldn't avoid, leaving naught but wisps of ionized gas above the now blackened glass of the desert.
A pair of droids, one protocol and one astromech, in an escape capsule labeled Tantive IV, were unaware of what was happening to the planet below.
They tumbled through the atmosphere in an uncontrolled descent, escape pod surrounded by a corona of fire as the pod entered the atmosphere.
Unable to see their surroundings, the pair had no idea what was causing their escape capsule to continue to shake.
"Oh my! This is another fine mess you've gotten us into R2!" Complained C-3P0, as he tried to balance himself.
R2-D2 whistled, trying to get the pod to right itself relative to the gravity well, and trying to access the external sensors to find out what was going on.
The little droid let out an electronic scream when it succeeded and saw green blasts pressing down on them.
The droid didn't even have the chance to tell his long-time companion what was happening before their pod vanished in a cloud of glowing plasma and dust.
A man and his Wookie co-pilot fled in their ship when five identifiable Star Destroyers appeared in system.
The ship's radar systems couldn't even identify the last ship in orbit. It was far too large for the systems to even properly scan, and the nav systems were going haywire trying to compensate for what it saw as a new celestial body in orbit.
Han figured it to be an Imperial ship; no other group in the galaxy had the economic power to build a ship larger than a Star Destroyer
"Chewie!" Han shouted, fingers flying over a sparking console.
The Falcon blasted out of Mos Eisely seconds before it was glassed.
Han bellowed, "Get to one of the turrets! I'm gonna try to get us outta-!"
He was interrupted when the howling Wookie ripped him out of his seat, crash webbing and all, and dashed out of the cockpit.
Han looked back and saw a lance of green slash through the cockpit, the ship's shields offering no resistance to the massive beam of turbolaser fire.
The entire ship quaked, being flung about as its balance was rudely interrupted by the loss of its main cockpit to the powerful green refined energy. Chewie and Han were thrown down the hall, and were tossed into the Dejarik table.
Han smashed into it, his body folding around it and coming to a stop thanks to the secure welds holding it in place. Chewie was less lucky, his howls echoing throughout the ship as he was thrown bodily into a bulkhead wall.
Just as the two started pick themselves up, they felt the air rushing out of the ship into the upper atmosphere. Luckily, the emergency systems hadn't been damaged and the emergency bulkheads sealed the ship.
Han slumped to the ground, his head smashing into the gaming table even as Chewie shouted at him to get up.
The Wookie's tolerance to pain had allowed Chewbacca to quickly pull himself together and try to get the ships damaged systems online.
The Wookie had immediately rushed to work on the shields, trying to stabilize them as the ship veered without a steady course. They would need them not only to get past the fleet above them, but also to deal with the micrometeoroids and radiation in space.
Han's eyes drifted up towards a patched up weld from when a hole had been punched through the main plating, and shuddered in remembrance at what a pistol-sized rock could do at speed.
Han pulled himself up onto shaky legs, nervousness causing him difficulty as he tried to find his way to the secondary flight console.
"Yeah, I got ya bud. But I guess with this I owe you one now," he said, dumbfounded at how close he came to death.
The Wookie let out a deep rumbling chuckle, and informed his friend that he had lost count of the times they had saved each other. His big paw engulfed Han's head, and ruffled his hair, much like a big brother would.
"Nice to know you care fuzzball. Let's get the hell out of this dump of a system. I've got a nice little route programmed in as a just in case; let's just break the grav well and we'll be on our merry way."
Pulling himself up as the ship spun, the inertial dampeners unable to fully compensate, he ran to the auxiliary controls, and quickly righted his ship, pulling it out of the path of another volley of fire with only seconds to spare.
Glancing at the radar screen, he saw dozens of ship signatures disappearing before his eyes. As he could attest to personally, the freighters and cargo ships had shields far too light to resist a turbolaser blast.
After all, his were just short of military spec for the Falcon's class, and they were unable to hold against a properly targeted turbolaser bolt.
Han tore his eyes away from the carnage, quickly manipulating the controls of his ship. He surprised himself at how quickly he was able to chart a course through the Star Destroyers and out of the gravity well.
With a wry chuckle, he said to Chewie, "At least we don't hafta pay back Jabba now."
The Wookie roared his agreement.
With a flourish, he triggered the hyperdrive systems of the ship, and with a just a short moment of lag, the Millenium Falcon was away.
In a palace out deep in the Wastes, that same Hutt failed to notice the events going on. When his majordomo attempted to inform him and get him to evacuate, Jabba simply had him thrown into his rancor's pit, for disturbing his nap.
A few moments later the rancor, the Twi'lek, Jabba, and all his entourage, were engulfed in the green fire bathing the desert planet.
A half hour later, the orbital bombardment had ceased. The planets skies were filled with black smoke from the intense heat cooking most of the gases on the planet, to say nothing of the burned and melted minerals.
The Dark Lord of the Sith nodded once, a tinge of satisfaction floating around him, and turned to issue out orders.
"Petty Officer Quadrix, chart a course to Coruscant. Take the Navy Parade routes, and await my command."
The Sith turned towards the officer, "Lieutenant Masha: for your failure, you will now have the...distinct pleasure of reporting to Emperor Palpatine as to the situation of Tatooine. I suggest you prepare a report before we arrive."
The officer fell back in dumb shock, and her professional composure failed her. The rest of the bridge ignored her, choosing uninvolvement over facing the Dark Lord's wrath.
Vader left the bridge, long-forgotten memories and emotions flashing through his head in a maelstrom, empowered by the dark side of the Force. They rushed through him as the cyborg took in his revenge on the planet of his birth.
That aura of satisfaction followed the black armored man, rapidly proceeding to the prisoner chambers in the aft of his ship. The distance, being as long as it was, required a horizontal turbolift in order to make reasonable time; ten kilometers was a long distance to travel in a timely matter.
He approached the cell door of the ambassador, opening it with a wave of his palm, the men nearby flinching at his use of the Force.
Taking care to duck his head, he stepped into the small room, and stared down at the princess in her white flowing outfit.
"Princess Leia," he attempted to drone, though tinge of dark pleasure invaded his voice, "I take it the plans were sent down to Tatooine."
"Lord Vader, I admit to nothing! We were on a diplomatic mission to Alderaan! When the Senate hears about this they will-" she shouted.
"Ambassador, we know you received plans to the Death Star while in flight. As the 501st were unable to locate them aboard your ship, they must have been sent to the planet." He paused, studying her features.
"So in an effort to destroy what we assume must have been a Rebellion outpost, the Executor and Death Squadron have reduced the planet to glass."
Vader's mask was silent in her presence, even as he stood stoically, his soulless gaze staring down Leia. Her confusion and questioning eyes tracked Vader, and she grew even more concerned under his glare.
Looking down at her to fix in his memory her face at that moment, he spoke out a somewhat ironic parting phrase, "Good day, Ambassador."
He quickly turned, taking note of the feeling of sheer disbelief coming from the princess. Cloak billowing behind him, he walked out of the prison cell, and made his way to the officer in charge of the prison wing, one Lieutenant Captain Jack Sarlin.
"Lieutenant Captain Sarlin," he spoke, causing the officer to jump to his feet at attention. Quickly, he set his uniform to right, having become disheveled from long hours hunched over his security console.
Vader continued as Sarlin adjusted himself, "Keep a close eye on the prisoner. Do not disappoint me."
The officer nodded, "I shall prepare the watches immediately, my Lord," he said, and proceeded, with the aid of a nearby petty officer to send out orders for guards to watch the ambassador's cell.
Nodding once in acknowledgment, Vader once again made his way through the corridors to the lifts, which quickly brought him to his personal quarters on the bridge of the Executor.
He let out a small, dark chuckle, releasing his grip on his emotions to enjoy the feeling at having destroyed the world that caused him so much pain. As he recalled his rage at his past, datapads and various electronic components around his quarters crushed in on themselves.
He pulled up a missive to the Emperor on his command console, an after-action report already prepared by Admiral Ozzel. With a few changes, he quickly sent it on its way, and entered his meditation chamber, preparing to wait for the Emperor's response.
As the walls came down he couldn't help but feel an inordinate amount of dark pleasure.
Once in the blurred starfield that was hyperspace, Han breathed a sigh of relief and wiped his brow of sweat. He was amazed that he was able to evade not one but five Star Destroyers, and a colossal monstrosity he had never even heard rumor of.
He got out of the battered secondary-console seat, tucked into a small room with a tiny viewport and console off the main lounge. Exiting the tiny room, Han moved to the passage that once led to his ship's cockpit. Placing his hand against the sealed bulkhead wall, he felt only the coldness of space, his hand rubbing up against the frost forming inside his ship.
Sheepishly grinning, he spoke to himself, "I'm gonna need a new DL-44 too. Should've kept her in the holster."
He shrugged his shoulders and removed a panel on the wall, allowing access to a hidden computer system tied into the identification systems of the ship. Deftly accessing the systems via a datapad wired directly into the system, he triggered a subroutine, allowing him to alter the transponder signals of the ship.
It would not be good for the Imperials to later identify his ship from the scans it had been subject to during the escape from Tatooine.
Replacing the panel, he shouted at his longtime comrade, "Chewie, how're the shields lookin'?"
The tall being, gentle nature disguised by seven and a half feet of muscle, responded to Han in his native tongue, informing the smuggler that the shielding system was back online.
"Hardware's all good? Nothin' blew out this time?"
Chewbacca roared his assent, and Han nodded.
"Some damn good luck. You know, the flight systems worked better than ever from this console. Didn't you say somethin' was going on with the cockpit?"
The Wookie nodded, explaining to Han how the wiring and subsystems had needed to be entirely overhauled, the fraying linkages and data cables near the bulkhead causing issues with the main computer systems of the ship.
"Huh. So in a way it's working in the her favor," he said, wry grin forming on his face. "You know, we've got a long way to Corellia, I'm gonna go freshen up."
Chewbacca shook his head at his foolish human and begun to set up the dejarik table, and Han shot him a dirty look.
"You know, I never win at that game. Can't we play sabaac instead?"
His longtime friend seemed to grumble something about Han being an unskilled lucky fool, and Han just smiled.
"Why do you think I never play dejarik with you anymore," he said, his grin growing wider, "Chewie, you know Lady Luck is the only woman I flirt with."
Chewie wordlessly grumbled, but began to shuffle the cards for sabaac, though out of spite. He'd show the human who was the best at cards.
Han walked towards his quarters; grin only fading when his door failed to open. Checking the environmental systems, he was dumbfounded to see there was a vacuum in his room.
His eyes widened and he dashed back to check one piece of data on the navigation console. Chewbacca asked him what was wrong, but Han just stared at the console readout.
He fell back into the patched console seat dumbfounded; had they waited ten seconds longer before making the jump to hyperspace, the fuel running through the bypass lines would have been lost to space instead of being rerouted to the engines.
They escaped the Empire by the thinnest margin; Han shuddered to think what would have happened if they were caught.
"Chewie, now's not the time for games. Time for strong liquor I think. To celebrate our luck."
Soundlessly, Chewbacca left the room for his quarters and brought back a single bottle, of amber liquid, glistening in the dim lights of the ship.
"I knew you were holding out on me, but Kuati whiskey?"
Han laid out two glasses and his copilot poured out measures for both of them.
"Here's to escaping by the razor's margin, and living to tell the tale," Han said, lifting his glass.
Chewbacca chuckled, and lifted his glass, asking one question in his native tongue, and Han let out a deep bellow.
"It's no different than any other day, now let's drink!"
Vader's meditation was not to be last long; mere hours after he submitted his first report to the Emperor, one Captain Lieutenant Seldon from communications interrupted his trance.
"My lord," said the comms officer, "there is a live message for you coming in from Coruscant. It-it's marked priority alpha."
"Acknowledged, Lieutenant Captain. Send it to my personal quarters, immediately. Emperor Palpatine does not appreciate being made to wait."
"Yes, my lord."
The communication from the bridge cut out, and Vader quickly triggered the machines to put his armor back on. Though the Emperor was not interested in vanity, he tended to grow displeased whenever he saw his apprentice's unmasked visage.
Fully ensconced in his gleaming armor, Vader strode out of the hyperbaric chamber, making way for the message pad in his quarters. Triggering it, he kneeled down, and stated, "What is thy bidding, my master?"
The burned Sith ruler in his heavy silk-lined woolen robe glared at Vader before starting his tirade, "Lord Vader, you have disappointed me. Apprentice," he started the word reverberating in the room as it commanded Vader's fullest attention, "laying waste to a planet is unimportant. Tell me, how did it feel to sate your...rage," he croaked.
"My lord, it was to prevent the loss of the Death Star plans to the Rebellion. Their ship-"
A quiet rage rolled over Vader's quarters as the durasteel walls creaked and groaned from Palpatine projecting over the vast gap of the stars.
"Then you should have destroyed the ship while it was still in the sky. You have allowed yourself to be consumed by rage, my old apprentice..."
The Emperor trailed off, contemplating his next words, while Vader stood still as a rock. Ignoring the extravagant cost of a real-time communiqué across planetary distances, the Emperor stared down at with his apprentice, yellow eyes devoid of emotion.
"Tell me, did you destroy that planet because of the Rebels? Or because of your past? Did it drive you to anger, knowing that the world beneath you once drove you into submission?"
Palpatine begun to croak out a quiet laugh. Even so, his mind turned tumultuously at Vader's actions, fear settling in his mind at his apprentice's impetuous behavior.
'I will have to watch carefully for betrayal once more,' he decided.
He pushed his wrath into Vader's quarters, letting his ill intent press down on what remained of Vader's body. Vader's mechanical limbs begun to creak under the pressure from the Force.
With a minor effort, Vader pushed out with the Force, reinforcing his limbs against the weight the Emperor had placed on them. It took little to resist his master when they were so far apart.
Palpatine's eye's narrowed as he felt his apprentice resist. The Sith decided to let his apprentice's resistance go for now; he could punish his wayward pupil once he arrived on Coruscant.
"My master, the only goal the Executor attempted to fulfill was the protection of Grand Moff Tarkin's plans for the Death Star," he spoke, forcing the words to be calm, to quiet his rage at the Emperor.
After a time, the Emperor spoke once more, "It matters not. Such an insignificant world means nothing."
He paused, and then began, "You will report to Coruscant to discuss this with me directly. I will decide what happens to you because of this."
Vader dipped his head, his gleaming helmet falling before the only one it ever offered respect to, though it was only a begrudging respect.
"As you wish, my master."
With that the projection disappeared, fading into motes of blue light as the Emperor cut off the communications link.
Suddenly, a whirlwind of items, furniture, paperwork, art, all flew into the air and begun to rip itself apart, a black column standing the eye of a storm.
After a spell, he signaled for a cleaning droid to straighten his quarters, and retreated to his hyperbaric chamber to think and meditate on the events of the day, and on Emperor Palpatine.
Another communication interrupted him before he managed to retreat into meditation, and with a twitch of his fingers, he activated the console from across his quarters.
"Junior Lieutenant Helkosh, you have interrupted my meditation. Be quick."
"My Lord, there has been an...ejection of one of the forward escape pods without authorization. It...it came from the bank near the prisoner quarters."
Vader pushed out with the Force, utilizing his anger to reach out and affirm his suspicions, sensing a single female passenger aboard the pod.
Rage pushed forward more, and his eyes begun to see red, casting a crimson shade even through his mask's lenses.
He barked out a command to the officer, "I want that pod shot out of the sky. The ambassador had her chance."
The officer quickly acknowledged Vader's command, and in short order one of the forward port gunnery crews had their orders to shoot the pod down.
With little fanfare, the portside crew took aim with three banks of turbolaser cannons, understanding the need to be thorough.
A sequence of turbolaser fire reached out and atomized the escape pod, leaving it little more than dust floating in the blackness of space.
Shortly thereafter, Vader felt that his crew had taken out the escape pod, feeling the life inside blink out in an instant. Turning his focus towards the bridge, he noted that navigation had finished charting their course.
It was then that Admiral Ozzel sent a low-priority message to Vader, not knowing whether Vader had entered his meditation chamber yet, and not wishing to disturb him.
When the message arrived issuing orders to begin the journey back to Coruscant only moments later, he quickly smoothed over surprised features at the rapid response.
"Helmsman Kayneth, Lord Vader has issued orders to making the first jump to hyperdrive. Please begin."
The helmsman nodded, and loaded the flight plans into the main navigation systems, while his assistant issued messages to all hands involved to prepare for the jump to lightspeed.
Within moments, a slight shudder went through the massive ship as it burst into hyperspace.
The news that Darth Vader had given her had shaken Leia to her very core, "I'm trapped on the most heavily armed ship in the galaxy, and that man has told me I annihilated a planet," she muttered, lost in thought.
She shivered, the cold durasteel bench she laid on lending her no comfort as she realized a planet of innocents was lost due to her actions.
The only thing keeping her going was the thought of justice for those people lost to the Empire's tyranny, their cold disregard towards life to keep their own government in power.
Her soft hand struck out against the door of her cell. It began to purple slightly, and she fell to the cold durasteel deck plating.
A loud rapping came from her cell door; expecting to hear her guards shout to keep it down, she tuned out the words that followed.
Moments later, the pounding began again, a soft thudding, before it stopped.
"That's Alliance code," she whispered, hope forming in her voice as she realized it was a signal that the person outside was a spy under deep cover.
Quickly she tapped out her name and rank in the Rebellion, knowing it wouldn't matter if it was an Imperial spy familiar with Rebel code; her number was already up.
A beat passed, her heart pounding in her chest as she impatiently waited for a response. She rested her head against the cell door, as trying to keep her composure.
Without warning the door slid open, and Leia's head bashed into her savior's knees.
Leia looked up, hoping to see a savior in Rebel uniform, only to be dismayed as it was a tall man in a pressed Imperial uniform.
Studying it, she saw familiar symbols; a symbol for a petty officer, first class, and a badge for his rate; he was a personnel specialist.
Suddenly, she was lifted to her feet by strong arms, and a bundle was shoved in her hands. Disoriented she blurted out, "Who are you?"
The man, his unremarkable face suitable for a spy, quickly spoke, "It's not safe to explain here. The uniform, quickly."
The man, Riggs, according his nametag, turned his back and resealed the door. Leia quickly unfolded the bundle, finding a uniform with an unfamiliar name, Brishen, but a very familiar pair of symbols on it, that of a full-lieutenant ship warfare officer.
Recalling the briefings the Rebellion held on infiltrating the Imperial Navy, she realized what the spy meant for her to do. She hoped the disguise would work well enough to find her a way to escape the ship.
She quickly stripped her robes, and begun to put the Imperial uniform on. As soon as she undid her hair, she tugged on the unfamiliar clothes.
With haste, she straightened the olive-grey uniform into place, hoping it was correct enough to pass scrutiny. She pulled her hair back and concealed it under the provided olive-grey cap, completing the appearance of a female Imperial officer.
Bundling her old garments, she quickly tapped on the door, opening to the same man. She stuck her head out, looking down the halls of the detention block both ways.
"This is between guard shifts," Riggs said, "now hurry. I've sliced your fake profile into the officer records, though it's doubtful it will hold up to scrutiny if you're caught here."
He handed her a damp rag, to wipe her cosmetics off as they walked; Imperial women did not wear any while on duty, and to do so would attract the wrong sort of attention.
Leia nodded, and followed the man through the halls quickly hoping to come to a docking bay where she could grab a ship and escape.
While following Riggs, she took the opportunity to cleanse her face, discard her old clothes with the dirtied rag.
'It would only be a liability to hold onto those robes anyway,' she thought to herself.
When the man stopped near the cabins under the command tower of the ship, Leia gave him a puzzled glance. In response he said, "Ma'am, as a petty officer, I cannot lead you in officer country. It would give away your cover."
He handed her a datapad, a map already pulled up for her, "You must lead to the room listed as destination here. Berthing 8909."
Nodding as she took the datapad, she assumed a regal bearing as she begun to find her way through the corridors. While it was not quite the same as a Naval officer's demeanor, it was close enough that she should be able to hide while in the halls.
Pacing through the halls, saluting at the correct moments, she almost froze in panic when she saw a corvette captain coming through the halls. Quickly saluting, his eyes slid over her cap-covered head, disguise good enough to get past at a glance.
Passing through grey hall after grey hall, the pair of Rebels came to the correct cabin. Riggs gestured to her datapad, and she tapped it on the door, electronic lock opening as it recognized the correct signature.
The empty room was sparse, two desks and two bunks, only offering slightly improved living over the enlisted racks.
As the door closed behind them, Riggs locked it and turned towards the princess.
"Princess Leia, you need to get off this ship as soon as possible."
She rolled her eyes at him, "I'm grateful for you help, but don't you think I know that Riggs? You should be more worried about risking your cover by smuggling me out."
He sighed, sitting on one of the two chairs; "You're too important to the Rebellion to be executed."
Her eyes widened at that, and he continued, "That is what the transfer orders said, though you were to be transferred to DS-1 battle-station. Tarkin's standing orders regarding you, should you ever be captured."
"Tarkin? Wilhuf Tarkin?"
He nodded, "The one and the same. I couldn't let that happen, so I've set you up with a false profile. There was a new transfer to the ship, a woman with a similar look as you, with a specialization in communications. Hadn't even reported for duty yet."
Leia's eyebrow raised, "So you swapped in my 'records'. What about the other woman?"
"Stuffed in an escape pod and shot out of the black by one of the gunnery crews. There was no other option; your appearance would have looked suspicious otherwise."
"I understand military necessity, Riggs. I take it I share this room?"
"Not one of ours, unfortunately. Currently your duty as Lieutenant Brishen is on the reverse of Lieutenant Cara Kortu; she is in Intelligence. You will need to be wary of her when you are both off-duty; she wouldn't be on this ship if she didn't show promise."
Leia looked at Riggs with a cold stare, "And how does my playing along with the crew of this ship factor into my escape?"
The spy took a moment, thinking of the best way to break the news to the Rebel leader.
"You have to understand, ma'am, this isn't part of my duties as a spy. Normally I would ignore any prisoner's brought on board while I relayed information out. Your best hope is to work hard and keep your head down until you can get shore duty. Aside from that I can't help you."
Swiftly he stood and turned his back towards Leia, preparing to leave the cabin, "It is best if we do not make contact again, for both our sakes. I wish you the best of luck, and may the Force be with you."
Sighing, she said "And with you. I suppose all I need to know is on this datapad?"
"Yes. You shouldn't be scheduled for duty until the day after tomorrow. I suggest you take the time to study the basics; no doubt you don't recall the training methods you were given on infiltration. Brishen was set to work in communications."
He opened the door, and left, leaving the Princess to her thoughts.
'Lieutenant Kayda Brishen, huh? At least I do know about communications systems.'
She begun to study the files; her abbreviated Imperial infiltration training returning to her memory slowly.
"Live from Coruscant, this is Armande Arkanus with the latest news on the military arm of the Empire."
"The Dorvala system has recently been hit by a series of unfortunate accidents, leading Sienar Fleet Systems to increase the cost of their TIE series in order to compensate. Incom Systems and the Corellian Engineering Corporation have reportedly run into the same issues, leading starfighter costs to rise."
He shuffled his flimsiplasts, distancing himself from the news being reported.
"In other news, the Alderaan system has been reported as hosting spies from various terrorist networks; when pressed, Senator Bail Organa refuted these claims, though he did mention he ordered Alderaanian security forces to investigate."
All of a sudden, a commotion was heard, off-screen as new information from Empire public relations teams came in to be issued. Arkanus nearly choked, seeing the data on the teleprompt, but realized this could be the report that would make his career.
"There is a report that has just come in from Imperial sources, that may shock some of our viewers. His Imperial and Royal Majesty, Emperor Palpatine I has announced that the planet Tatooine has been subjected to orbital bombardment from the recently unveiled 'Death Squadron,' the Supreme Commander Lord Vader's personal fleet."
Turning to address his galaxy-wide audience, Arkanus turned to the close-up camera. He started to reveal to the audience the facts as he had them, the Imperial party line, "Emperor Palpatine has stated that the terrorist group, known formally as the Alliance to Restore the Republic was concealing a base of heavy tactical devices on the planet. In response to their communications demanding Lord Vader surrender his fleet, no choice was left but to destroy every possible trace of where the A.R.R. base, and forces, could be hiding."
He turned back, the camera's shifting once more as he prepared to finish his report.
"At 1500 hours, Coruscant time, the operation was commenced to destroy insurgent forces; at 1547 hours the operation was concluded, and Tatooine was declared a dead planet. Our hearts at the station go out to the innocents whose lives were lost due to A.R.R. forces."
Worlds away, Grand Moff Tarkin, enjoying the discourse of news, shattered his wine glass upon hearing the story from Arkanus. Quickly he ordered his aide to bring him the official Imperial report.
"You go too far, Lord Vader. This was to be my moment of triumph," he mumbled, anger lacing his voice.
He vowed to get even with Vader, even if it meant crossing the Emperor's bad side; the Moff promised himself he would become the Emperor's staunchest confidante, no matter the cost.
To any readers who stumble across this story; welcome. This is the first fanfiction I am publishing, though hardly the first I have written or conceptualized. My desire is to take you on a trip through at least one arc that has been pre-planned, though no-doubt if I should reach the end of that arc I will have more stories to tell.
This is an Alternate Universe borrowing from George Lucas' "Star Wars." But at this point you know that.
The basic impetus for this story came from a "What-if" I was discussing online with a friend, who also happens to be my editor. The gist of it was, "What if Darth Vader had the Executor and Death Squadron with him when he cornered Leia at Tatooine, and what would a possible reaction be, should he not feel like combing the planet for the Death Star plans?"
The rest of this grew out of that concept, and I have a general plot line and trend established out until what would essentially be the end of this modified Episode IV, taking into account some data from the prequels, EU, and various other ideas I've had.
The actual basis for this fanfiction can be found through my profile in the one-shot, "The Destruction of Tatooine." It's very basic and rough, but it grew into this quite organically.
I'd like to thank the combined group of Caer Azkaban on Yahoo Groups for their assistance in research and possible ideas. They've offered me no small amount of information about Naval duty and life, as well as information regarding Star Wars canon and EU.
In addition, I'd like to thank the author Malicean for his work involving character portraits of members of the Imperial Navy. It was a large influence in my decision to create this story in the way it is.
Finally, I'd also like to thank my beta/editor here, Kraken's Ghost. He's been of tremendous help, and this fic would not be a tenth as good as it is without his help. As stated above, he has been my partner in fleshing this concept out into an entire story and universe, and he deserves a heavy amount of the pie when it comes to this work. And without his skilled hand at editing my sloppy writing, this would be of a rather poor quality indeed.
Thanks for reading.
von Bauernfeind